


After The Storm, Comes The Feelings

by josiegrae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attraction, Brooding, Competition, Feelings, Frustration, Idiots in Love, Kissing in the Rain, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-23 01:00:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15594747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiegrae/pseuds/josiegrae
Summary: Teddy and James are out racing on their brooms when a violent wind and thunderstorm catches them unaware. The two find quick cover and Teddy begins his questioning over James 'odd' behaviour.





	After The Storm, Comes The Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Thank you to my beta who will remain anonymous until reveals.

**After The Storm, Comes The Feelings**

* * *

The air was hot and heavy, layering both James and Teddy's skin with sea salt and sweat. It had been that way for days, becoming stiflingly uncomfortable and forcing even the calmest individuals to become tense. James had become restless, an itch worming its way through him as he desperately wanted to dive out into the sun; he despised being inactive, and even as the summer days began to drag on, James knew unless he did something he too would cause fires to erupt unexpectedly.

His dad had suggested he mow the grass the muggle way—also known as, the way Harry Potter had been raised to mow the grass. But even the back garden had turned a horrid shade of yellow—not bright like Teddy's school tie and not yellow like the sun. It had come to resemble something close to hay, although much less inviting. More importantly, it didn't need mowing, which is precisely what he told his dad when he suggested he hang out with Teddy—the same Teddy that James had been avoiding.

James found himself trapped between a spell and a statue, his mouth hanging open as he damned his brain for not being quick enough to think of an excuse. _You two should go into Diagon before the storm hits_...but James hadn't listened, the only thought running through his head was the need to put space between him and Teddy. A lot of space, but without suspicion.

It had seemed a brilliant idea to fly; to allow the air to rush past his skin, for the world to brush through his hair. In the end, it hadn't made a difference. With the seaside breeze rushing around him, the two of them darting through the clouds, nothing could alleviate the sweaty discomfort under James' pits, least of all when he'd glance over and see Teddy's white shirt pressed against his chest, and then his abs, and his arms.

James couldn't help but stare, even if he tried. It had begun before the summer, a horrid, stomach twisting sensation sunk to the pit of his stomach. His cheeks had prickled, his throat burned from holding the lump down, and all he wanted to do was scream. It was exactly what he wanted to do now, suspended high up into the air, the wood between his legs, and just wail until his voice box gave in—allowing it to carry out over the ocean. He was frustrated— _beyond_ frustrated—and he had been since Teddy had moved into the ' _Potter'_ house for the summer.

"You're slowing down there, _Potter_."

Teddy's voice cut through the wind, slicing all noise, making it vanish as though his voice was a spell. James tried to swallow, tried to think, but only _Christ_ and _fuckin' hell_ came to mind.

It took all of James' concentration to not let go of his broom and plunge himself into the watery depths beneath him. At least he'd escape _those_ eyes, the ones James would _happily_ let trail over his body, the same ones he dreamt about every night staring at him as he dreamed of Teddy with his legs either side of him. James fancied Teddy something _chronic_ , and he _wished_ —more than he ever had—that Teddy would fancy him back or, he would at least get over it. It was all than ran through his mind like a record stuck on repeat, churning and rolling around until he came close to sticking his wand in his ears to relieve the annoyance.

James clutched the broom handle, arching over a little more as he urged himself to go faster. His broom wasn't in the best shape, and he was sure to get splinters from the intensity he was gripping it with, but he _really_ didn't care. He welcomed the pain. He wanted to feel something other than tightness in his chest and a lurch in his stomach every time Teddy looked back at him, looking desirable and so self-assured.

"Take that, _Lupin_ ," James said with as much gusto as he could force.

It was to no avail. Teddy was quicker, more nimble. He was lighter, that was for sure; he was skinnier, less built than James—but then Teddy didn't need to spend two hours a day in a gym to relieve sexual tension.

Placing his heels in the stirrups, James urged his broom to go faster than it ever had. So fast it would take him away from here and allow him a minute to refigure his thoughts. He needed to stop thinking about Teddy, and his _fucking_ tight chest, and his _fucking_ blue hair—that he desperately wanted to run his hands through—and his perfect, plump, pink fucking lips.

"James!"

Mildly jumping, James shot Teddy a look, spotting him suddenly beside him—which was far too close for how James was currently feeling, and currently experiencing in his shorts—but he wasn't going to tell him to move. He couldn't, even if he wanted too. James had never been able to ask Teddy to _back-off_ or even tell him no.

"Look, the sky is changing. Didn't your dad mention about a storm—"

 _Fuck_. Shit. _Fucking-fuck-shit-shit._

"—'cause I remember him going on about how we shouldn't go out on brooms," Teddy said, a worried edge to his usually chipper words. "The clouds are darkening quicker than Al's cheeks when someone mentions Malfoy; I think we need to get down, get off the brooms."

James had been set to open his mouth, to find words, aiming to speak _anything_ —even if it was simply nonsense—but as he motioned to speak, the words were knocked from his mind and lips by a large gust of wind.

If not for his grip, if not for the fact his thighs were clenched so tightly around the broom beneath him, James was sure he'd have fallen. His last thoughts being of Teddy and how _fucking_ ridiculously attractive he was _even_ with sheer panic over his face. It wouldn't have been a bad way to go, but it would have been far too soon. He at least hoped life would allow him to make a fool out of himself first, like by kissing Teddy and then plunging several hundred feet to his icy death.

Throwing his weight to the side, James managed to level himself, finding the old Quidditch ways coming back to him. He tried to shoot a smile, his usual cocky one that wasn't hard to muster, but it was, especially when Teddy ogled at him with wide-eyes, panic hanging like torches in their depths.

"I'm fine!" He screamed over, a large droplet of water crashing into his cheek, forcing his eyes up to the sky. "We need—"

"We _need_ to find cover," Teddy bellowed cutting him off.

The formally blue hair—the one that had begun changing by the second—was blowing in all directions. Thankfully for James, Teddy's eyes were scanning the nearby cliffs, not focused on him and how his mouth had fallen open at the sandy-brown hair shade that had caught his attention. Teddy's expression had sharpened, his hand lifting to his brows as his eyes widened a little.

"Over there, the cliffs, _c'mon_!"

He didn't know if it was irony or horrid bad luck, but the place they were heading was the exact place James _hadn't_ wanted to fly near.

A muscle had gone taunt in James' neck, eyes fixed firmly on Teddy as he zoomed past him, leading the way. James forced himself to follow quickly, although the idea of being in close quarters with Teddy made him want to throw himself into the dangerously, uninviting, sea below—the same one he had moments ago not wanted to be in. Even he knew that throwing himself in was foolish, dangerous, and idiotic, especially when Teddy would bound after him like a bloody hero, and then he'd be wet. Both of them would be wet—

"Hurry up!" Teddy screamed back at him, his eyes wild like a bonfire.

And all James could think was _fuck, fuck, fuckity,_ fuck.

* * *

The cave—as to be expected—wasn't roomy or hospitable, but it provided shelter and James found it be dry. Which he at least thought was something. He tried to bury his _privileged_ arse as he stepped in, staring at the moss-covered walls and the cluster of something in the corner that he only hoped wasn't alive. James sighed as he placed his broom against the side wall, reminding himself that if not for his _un-Gryffindor_ tendencies, neither he or Teddy would be in the cave to begin with.

Teddy had laughed when they landed— _actually laughed—_ as though the entire thing was an adventure. James was usually the adventurous one—it was all he was known for—and he did not find this fun or similar to an adventure. He actually found that instead, he had been rather _fucking_ stupid, which was saying something if _he_ thought it.

"Not bad," Teddy exclaimed, running a hand through his hair as it continued to spiral through various shades.

James did have to agree somewhat; it could have been a lot worse. It could be hot, and the desperate need to remove all clothing in the cave could be his reality, but thankfully, with the downpour outside, the atmosphere was at least cooling off.

"Sit down, Jamie."

Looking over his shoulder, James tried not to gasp as Teddy stood topless, attempting to ring out his white t-shirt as his hair flicked through the rainbow. He momentarily rethought of cliff diving, before James realised he was wandless and phoneless.

"C'mon! Why are you being so weird?"

Rolling his eyes, James spun on his heels to face Teddy, ignoring his lack of clothing. "I'm not, I was just…" _think of something James, think. "_ Seeing if there was lightning."

Teddy smirked, one of those annoyingly bold Hufflepuff ones that make the other houses hate them. "You don't need to be on the cliff's edge to see lightning, Jamie; you can see it when it lights the fucking cave up from back here."

He groaned secretly to himself, trying not to shuffle over or seem displeased at being close to him. Teddy—who thankfully _always_ thought—pulled out his wand, finding it looking more worse for wear than it had done.

"Want me to dry you off?" Teddy turned his wand in his hand. "Maybe best for me not to use magic though."

James tried not to choke on his own tongue.

* * *

James eventually settled on sitting close to Teddy, the two of them eagerly watching the ocean battle the sky, the lightning shoot down, and the waves scream out in fury. James had always loved watching storms, finding the environmental forces somewhat primal when it boiled down to it.

James clung to his knees, forcing more of his body close to himself as Teddy sat back, legs outstretched. They were opposites, and usually always were, but since the summer—and the increased time with one another—James had found himself acting nothing like his usual self, and everything like his brother. He had become unconfident, shy even—and the only explanation as to why remained sat beside him.

He wanted to challenge it, demand why Teddy had decided to move in when he was a twenty-five-year-old man, but he didn't, he wouldn't—especially when he secretly loved Teddy being there.

"I've barely seen you," Teddy spoke, seemingly out of nowhere.

James tried not to squirm but found increasingly more difficult the longer the silence continued. It worsened when James felt Teddy's soft eyes fixed themselves on him, torturing him from the side as he tried to watch the lightning bolts come down from the clouds.

"You got something to tell me, _Jamie_?"

It was a challenge, a push, and James didn't know if he was ready for it. Instead of replying, he shot Teddy a look, a deep frown nestled between his brows he hoped would be taken seriously.

Teddy shrugged. "You seeing _someone_?"

James wanted to laugh—to cackle. A deep need to release some of the bottled tension that was beginning to make him feel like a volcano set to explode all over the place. He wasn't sure how he could even _start_ to 'see someone'; how someone would be okay with him crushing so hard on his friend to the point that others, including them, seemed pointless.

"You can tell me, Jamie."

_No. No, I really fucking can't._

He rubbed his hands together, pulling his knees up close to his chest. He did this all while fighting the numbness moving through his jeans—the one that made his bones ache—and the _desperate_ need to curl into Teddy for warmth. He won't do that though, for one he isn't a kid anymore, and curling into a man who you have feelings for is a recipe for disaster, even James knows that—and he isn't nearly as bright as Teddy.

"I hate it when you're silent. It means you're hiding something," Teddy said absently.

James tried not to flinch. The sting that punctured his chest making him break a little inside because while it was the truth, James couldn't begin to explain what it was he was hiding. He wouldn't be able to find the right words to tell Teddy that he's _fucking_ in love with him, and that he's bisexual, and that he's fancied the jeans off Teddy for something close to a year now.

So instead, he deflects; he hides and conceals. It was what James had always been good at—it's what he had perfected over the years of living with an invasive dad and a questioning mother. "I don't know how to ask you to drop it delicately, but, _drop it._ "

Teddy laughed, light and full of air, but yet it weighed heavy on James' chest; it burned the area where his words had stung earlier, reminding James of the lie he was keeping. It fluttered against his skin, warming and warning him simultaneously.

"That was almost... _eloquent_ for you, Jamie. I'm sure there is usually a _fuck off_ or suck my dick in there somewhere."

James' face flushed, burning, and he was sure if he didn't control it soon, he'd become a light source for people to find them.

"Fine, _fuck_ off," James added, trying to mean it, but he didn't.

"And?"

He met his eyes, and James internally pleaded for him to stop.

James licked his cracked lips, his tongue feeling each bit of dry skin as he tasted iron. "Seriously, Teddy. Please, just _fucking_ drop it."

When Teddy smirked, it did something to James, something he couldn't explain while needing to adjust himself in his ridiculously tight jeans James knew he should never have worn. His mouth _instantly_ went dry, and his mind blanked except for one single thought: _not here, please not here_.

His internal plea's continued for another ten seconds. And then another five because _this_ couldn't happen _here_ because _he is twenty-fucking-two, and he is not a teen anymore who can't control their hormones around one fucking man._

"If there were a smirk on your face, Jamie, I'd think you were flirting with me."

 _Christ_.

James cleared his throat, shoving the lump somewhere deep down where he hoped it would never be able to resurface from. "Fuck _you_ , Teddy."

He was sure Teddy blushed.

* * *

The thunder continued to boom—thankfully masking any conversation that could begin—as rain pounded any available surface it could, and the wind pounded any place it could. James had needed to skirt back from the edge, pressing himself into the back wall—which wasn't as far back as he would hope for a cave—just to shield himself from the furious weather.

The lightning, however, was what James had decided to focus on, becoming entirely transfixed, his eyes purposefully watching as it struck itself across the sky, causing haphazard lines of destruction that never seemed to make its full course.

James occasionally glanced over at Teddy, his hair having fixed on a grey-silver like the clouds, as his head rested against the rock behind him. His eyes were closed, and James thanked the heavens for that piece of peace at least because every time they burned into him, he was adamant he was about to burst into his own storm. His lightning wouldn't be as beautiful, or as predictable; his thunder would seem whiny, self-important and selfish. The rain would be his tears, traipsing down his face as he tried to rationalise his feelings.

He had _never_ been in love.

If James was honest—which he wasn't a lot of the time—love terrified him. He watched as love brought carnage to his family as his dad and mother _loved_ one another; he watched as Lily fell in _love_ with a boy and had her heartbroken. He even saw as friends made mistakes and they would argue, ' _it's just love, you'll get it when you feel it'_ , and yet now that he did, he wasn't sure he could ever be so foolish.

It hadn't been something he had woken up with one morning and couldn't rid himself off. No, his feelings for Teddy crept up to him, they haunted him for a while before they showed themselves. His feelings were like a ghost, but not like the ones at Hogwarts that _wanted_ to be seen, this ghost wanted to be hidden, provide the element of surprise.

They engulfed him the moment he noticed them, and his heart thumped furiously when he thought about him; James found himself acting foolish without thought, just like all other lovesick idiots. He became mindless, and a bit of a dick, and he hated being either never mind both. For one, James was the eldest—and while he hated hearing it—he knew he was the one that had to set an example.

If Albus saw him being a mess, he would find it okay to be a mess himself; if Lily saw him being foolish with his heart, she would think it was okay to do the same. And even indirectly, James _had_ to protect his siblings; it was his duty, his principle—his job.

"You're staring," Teddy muttered, his eyes still closed.

James rolled his eyes as he added a sharp snort for good measure. "Am not."

"Are _too_ , and if you're going to be so immature! I'll go back to ignoring you."

He had never known his ears, cheek, and even chest to burn with embarrassment the way they did at the word _immature._ It stung like a hex, and it hurt like a wound, and James wanted to feel none of it, but found himself unable to ignore any of it.

Opening his mouth, James quickly closed it as he turned his head and continued to stare out at the raging storm.

"Fine, I wasn't ignoring you," Teddy added, in the light and cheery tone he always had, and it _always_ worked.

The tone—hell, even the sound of Teddy's voice—always made James forgive him, even if he didn't want too. Like the time James had been given detention by Teddy or when Teddy had taken him to a bar and watched as he drunk himself to the point of throwing up all over his new _Vans_.

James shrugged, crossing his arms under his chest. "I know."

The air trembled between them as neither spoke again, and James wondered if the storm was similar to him and Teddy. _Did the thunder fall out with the lightning, and both tried furiously to get the others attention? Were they opposites like them?_ The good boy from

Hufflepuff who was both smart and kind, and the son of a saviour from Gryffindor, who was brave but not much else. _Did the lightning love the thunder, but not feel worthy, especially when all it had was dramatics and flamboyance?_

"Have I upset you?" Teddy asked, and James turned his head so quick he was sure something cracked.

There, written across Teddy's pale cheeks and shimmering eyes was worry and pain. It forced his chest to ache worse than it had done earlier, and James tried to swallow the horridness in his throat as he tried to soften his expression.

"No, why?"

Teddy frowned, casting his eyes down as he sighed, full of depletion. "You seem like you _hate_ me. It's just... _odd."_

James arched his brow, attempting to _be normal_ , even if he didn't have a clue what normal _was_ anymore. "I was on a broom with you earlier, well, _not with you-with-you._ But, alongside you." The curse words that rolled around his head was nothing compared to the way his ears burned— _to the point of ridiculousness_ —at his use of words.

"We have _always_ been close, Jamie."

Nodding, he offered a smile. "Yeah, I know. I have been here Teddy."

Teddy sighed again, but this time James knew it to be a disappointed one. "Yeah...forget it, it doesn't matter."

He winced, but he tried not to show it, turning his attention back to the storm as several blasts of lightning lit the sea below. James wondered if the thunder loved the theatrics that was put on for it, or if it found it annoying like Teddy must do when James was his usual dramatic-self.

* * *

When James had been a boy, his hand in his Dad's, he had wished that everyone would stop looking at him. It wasn't that he hated the stares or the gasps, but rather the confusion their stares brought. He'd ask his dad, _why do they stare at us?_ and his dad would offer a soft smile and only silence as an answer.

Teddy had been the first person to give him the answer. He had been six, curled up against the sheets in his bed, and James had asked him as he lay with his head at his feet. At first, Teddy had been reluctant, but in time and with enough reassurance that he'd keep the answer to himself, Teddy opened up like a _Chocolate Frog_ showcasing the secret card inside: " _Your dad saved the world, Jamie."_

Even when James had wanted to keep something from Teddy, he found himself unable too. Each time the secret burnt in his throat or thickened till it made a lump, James would remember how Teddy had told him something no one else could, and guilt—because of that—always compelled him to share. But this he knew he couldn't.

Looking over at Teddy's sleeping form, James noticed how his chin was pressed to his chest, and James felt the coldness within the cave. He wanted to wrap Teddy up, barricade him from being ill or upset, and James had never before wished for magic more than he did now.

When he learnt of what his dad had done, and why the world stared at him with so much awe, James had wished he didn't have magic. He wished they were normal— _all of them._ He eventually grew out of it, watching the demon that was wishing and wanting to harvest inside of his brother, but Albus couldn't shed the feeling as easily as James had. He let it fill him with anger towards their dad, as though all of their problems would have vanished if their dad's sacrifice hadn't happened.

A flash of lightning brought James back to the present, to the soft ways Teddy breathed and his heart thudded beside him. Even in the loudness of the storm, James could still pick out Teddy; even if the world went black, James was _sure_ he'd find Teddy.

"Are you cold?"

James turned his head, noticing the pink on the end of Teddy's nose and the blush—caused by the wind—over his cheeks.

 _Yes._ "No," James lied through shivering teeth.

He didn't know why he _had_ lied, especially when he had never been very good at it. James knew that he'd think of it for the rest of their time here, and some more. Lies had a way of unveiling themselves in ugly and disgusting ways, and while he _fibbed_ to get out of a detention—James had always chosen not to lie. His first year at Hogwarts had punched that into him. James had stood before Professor Longbottom, denying the claims he had charmed a plant pot to land over a Slytherin's head—the name he couldn't remember now. He knew that the Professor didn't believe him, and James could hardly blame him.

" _I know you did it, Mr Potter."_

_James folded his arms. "I did not."_

" _I saw you."_

_A smirk passed over James' lips. "You did not."_

How he had gotten away with far fewer house points and only a warning, James wasn't sure, but when he left he stuffy greenhouse, circled by his friends who applauded his behaviour, a pair of bright eyes stood before him, blue in hue.  _Your dad was the boy who lied, are you the son who lies?_ It was an odd statement, given by an even odder girl in Ravenclaw colours, but James couldn't shake her piercing stare or the way she pecked at his soul.

James had opened his mouth and scoffed, but her words had done the damage, and he found himself with little room to deny them, especially when they were rather true.

Isabelle was also the first girl James kissed, and the last. He had stared into her eyes after, finding they searched him for answers he didn't have, before they widened. _You didn't like that, did you?_ James had shrugged, deciding there was no use in lying, least of all to her. _No,_ he said, and Isabelle nodded with pride. _Honest, like your dad._

"You're shivering," Teddy said, brushing his hand against his cheek.

James hated how he wanted to keep it there, never let it move from his face. "I'm fine," he scoffed, focusing all of his energy on stopping his face from burning.

"You're a bad liar, Jamie."

He only sighed, meeting Teddy's eyes and hating how he wished to fall into them. "I know."

* * *

The silence began to annoy him, and James began to question whether the storm was here because of his woes or because his dad always had to be right. The pacing had begun shortly after James had become bored with the storm, or more importantly, became bored with trying to ignore Teddy.

He hated pacing, finding the act ridiculous and futile, but he had watched Teddy do it so often that James had adopted it as something he did when he became stressed. And this was definitely a _stressful_ situation. At first, he hadn't found it relaxing at all, often feeling stiff and uncomfortable. But eventually, he settled into it, counting his steps and his breaths, and James began to see exactly what Teddy found comforting about it.

Teddy had rested his head against the cave wall again, closing his eyes, and James had been in awe that he could sleep in a time like this. He only remembered after several stare filled minutes that Teddy wasn't wrestling with feelings for him, like James was for Teddy, and so it wasn't odd that Teddy wasn't finding this situation more intolerable.

He found that five paces forward, a turn, and five paces back, was a good rhythm for him. But the cave wasn't that large, and so he had been forced to settle for three. It didn't give James enough of a pace, which only added another layer of anger. On the turn, he found his eyes always glued to Teddy, adding a new and frustrating layer James didn't want to think about. It was bad enough he was wrestling with the annoyance that Teddy looked both handsome awake and asleep.

"You're staring," Teddy whispered, cutting through the weather and forcing the world to silence. "You can't deny it this time."

James stopped at the mouth of the cave, his breathing becoming a struggle to keep.

"Jamie, talk to me."

His hand ran through his hair, hating the _Potter-thickness_ he had inherited. It never gave a satisfying run through, his fingers always clotting around curls that hadn't quite _curled_ and lugs that never finished with combing.

James pleaded with the stars, ones he couldn't see behind clouds.

"Jamie," Teddy tried again.

"I have been," he snapped back, although he hadn't intended too. "I mean, I've been _talking_ to you," he added much softer.

Teddy's face fell, and the look snapped something in James he hadn't known was there. He was sure it was the last thread, the last piece that was holding him together. "You're mad at me, and I don't know why."

Flexing his hand at his side, James took a deep breath. "I'm _not_."

Teddy tilted his head, and James hated the look. It made him feel like he was being told off or judged, or worse, cross-examined to see when he'd crack. James was sure, if Teddy continued to look hard enough, he'd see all the interstices within him—all the places starved of happiness as James juggled his emotions.

Taking another deep breath, James rolled his shoulders as the cold wind slapped him on the back. "I'm... _not_ mad at you, I'm just, dealing with somethings—"

"And you can't tell me them?" Teddy pushed. "Is it that bad, is it debt? _Alcohol_? Are you going to be seen by the Wizen—"

" _Christ_ no!" James hissed, and he tried not to be mad at the increasing worsening thoughts Teddy was having. "I just…"

 _Spit it out,_ the voice in the back of his head said—the one that sounded a lot like a girl with blue eyes. _You're already fucked, either way, you may as well tell him. Maybe the storm will stop when you do?_ James snorted at his own conscious as he began to pace much quicker, two forward, two back. _Two forward, two back._

"Do you want to sit down?" Teddy asked, all innocent and full of love.

James nodded as he halted, moving to step closer before he held his hands up in protest, as though something else was compelling him to sit. "No—wait, _I can't—_ "

Teddy frowned, his eyebrow arching and a condescending look passing over the remainder of his expression. "You can't... _sit?"_

"No."

"Why?" Teddy prodded—like an owl who couldn't give up a letter.

James' clenched his fists, feeling the half-moons of his nails digging into his palm. "Because I just _can't!"_

"That isn't an answer, Jamie. Stop acting like a child."

 _Child,_ James thought. _Child, child,_ child.

It hurt more than it should have; it stung him worse than an insect, and even worse than earlier. James would have taken any other word, except that _one_. If he could, he'd go back in time and erase _that_ word passing Teddy's lips ever again. Because he wasn't a child, and he hadn't been for a while—but if Teddy thought he was, then everything he had been feeling, everything he had felt, was all useless. Meaningless.

Teddy was stood now, hair switching between various colours as the cave walls became decorated in shades. James couldn't meet his eyes, the pain still circling his bones from the word. _The word child._

"Jamie?" Teddy attempted, stepping closer but James only shook. " _Whatever_ it is, we can do this."

James jaw tensed, almost cracking under the pressure of his fury. "Even when I'm a _child?"_

Teddy's eyes widened before softening with the realisation of what he had said. His mouth opened, ready to shower James with apologies and various other words that would cushion the pain, but they never came. Instead, Teddy patted him on the shoulder and moved past him to the mouth of the cave.

The silence from Teddy was much worse than he had ever imagined it could be.

* * *

The storm had settled, but the wind hadn't. Teddy had said that it would be late now, too late to try and fly in case the wind took one of them and they'd be both lost at sea. James wasn't sure if he was being logical or still protecting James, but he had rather wished Teddy had gone back to being silent with him.

"I have a question," Teddy said out of nowhere, his foot resting against the cave wall as he tapped his hands against his thighs. "Just _one_."

James growled, hoping Teddy knew it was the only acknowledgement that he was giving permission for him to speak.

"Why can't you just be honest? Even with _me_. Why do you still have to lie?"

 _Ouch,_ James thought to himself—even though he knew it was true. The wind suddenly silenced, and he half-expected there to be a new storm approaching as he looked over his shoulder, but was thankful to find only darkness and clouds.

There was little pretence left, and if James was truthful, he had already shared far too much. If he continued to lie, it wouldn't matter how he felt because there would be no Teddy around for him to hide his feelings from. He would be gone, entirely done with James _shit._ Not that he would blame him, if the wand was in the other hand, James would have stormed out of the cave earlier. But thankfully, Teddy _wasn't_ James.

"Fine," James hissed. "You want honesty? _Fine_."

The answer had seemed to surprise Teddy because he had flinched from the tone, but James found himself lacking any care. He was rattled, vexed even. Every vein in his body vibrated with the boiling blood that coursed through him, and James wanted to be rid of it all—the stress, the anxiety, but most of all the lies.

"Jamie…"

 _You can do this,_ the voice said again, and James felt himself fill with faux-Gryffindor courage. "No, no, no, _no._ You don't get to demand this from me and then call me Jamie, as though that cute name will rectify everything."

Teddy snorted. "Fine, James, you need to calm down."

"Why?"

"Because I care about _you_."

"Well," James said, closing the gap between them with two strides, "I'm in love with you. So _there_. I, love you. Not in the cute-brother-way either, the full-on, I like you the topless way; the 'I want you' in ways I shouldn't, way. I, am in love with you. It began as a crush, and now its love, and I can't be around you because it's so goddamn hard and you're so fucking handsome and I think I would kill for you, kind of love. The level of love that makes you fuckin' dumb and brainless, and—and—"

But James didn't get as far as thinking of what was next, his mind fizzled to nothing as a pair of lips— _Teddy's lips_ —crashed into him. They were soft, but cracked; dry but warm, and they felt so right James wondered if he was dreaming. His chest became engulfed with heat, his chest burning with the realisation that James was kissing Teddy, because Teddy had kissed James.

" _Wait_ ," James tried.

Even with his attempt, he found Teddy resilient to stopping. He quickly pressed his lips back to James', as though he could steal all of the doubt and questions simply with his mouth. James was actually sure he could, but he wouldn't let him; he was stubborn like that—the annoying Potter-Weasley stubbornness that everyone said he had.

"Just kiss me," Teddy pleaded, his hand moving into James' hair. "You don't know how long I've wanted this—"

"Wait, what?" James snapped, pushing back on Teddy's chest nearly causing him to fall over in shock. "You... _like me_?"

Teddy laughed, but not in mockery but in shock. "Are you dumb?"

"I fucking feel it right now!"

The blood was pounding in James' ears, but utterly different to how it had been before. He was pretty sure his heart had relocated to his throat, his chest had begun to flutter with each gust of wind. Everything inside of him tingled with adrenaline, and James wasn't sure how to feel, how to silence it all.

"Yes," Teddy said softly. "I like you, _fuck_ , I've liked you for ages. Since your seventh year and I really shouldn't have. Then when you turned twenty-one, and you told me you drunkenly that you didn't like skirts but shorts, and I asked if it was a fashion statement or people—"

"And I responded that anyone could wear skirts or shorts," James mumbled as his face began to heat up.

Teddy offered him a small smile, one that should have been reassuring but James found it the opposite. "I have very little to offer, so I chose to just be what I've always been. Your friend, but then you...I thought I was losing you."

James slowly shook his head, biting down on his lip. "You couldn't. Lose me I mean. I mean, you could, like you did when I was little, but not now." He rubbed the back of his head, avoiding Teddy's eyes as he continued to wrestle with _everything._ "I look _for you,_ Teddy. If I can't find you, I search. I always do. _Fuck_ , I think I even breathe better with you around, never mind sleep. I am calmer, or I was until I began to get raging _hard-ons_ because you can't seem to keep a shirt on."

"You're one to talk," Teddy smirked, and James felt his cheeks burn even more.

Steadying his breathing, James let a smile pass over his face. "So...you like me, and I like you?" He shrugged, almost playfully as Teddy moved closer to him, and James took his fingers before Teddy had even motioned to get them. "What do we do with this... _information_?"

Teddy slid his mouth to the side, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "We either go all in—"

"Or—" James whispered, hovering his lips over Teddy's.

"—You step away from me because your dad is coming on a broom."

James snapped his head around, seeing the unmistakable hair and glasses on a broom James had almost stolen.

Teddy ran his thumb over his fingers. "All in, or—"

James crashed his lips to Teddy's, using his free hand to grip the side of his face, his fingers teasing at his hair. He pressed every word he had ever wanted to say, every feeling he had been able to feel, and every thought that had crossed his mind into the kiss, before he pulled his lips back, leaving Teddy with a swollen, rather pink mouth.

He turned on the spot, stood with his hand in Teddy's as he shielded his eyes from his dad's _Lumos_. James tightened the grip, holding Teddy's fingers as close to his own as he humanly could as Harry moved into the caves' mouth.

"You pair of...Wait," Harry said, his eyes moving from one to the other. "You two talked?"

James frowned, and Teddy coughed.

"Oh thank _fuck_ for that, your mum will be so pleased Jamie—"

"— _James—_ " James and Teddy interrupted simultaneously.

"—she was _almost_ going to lock you in your grandmother's shed next Sunday," Harry said as he laughed. "I told her to let you two idiots do this on your own."

Teddy, who seemed to be far braver than James currently, cleared his throat. "So, you're alright with me...dating your son?" James turned his head, his lips parting. His Hufflepuff boyfriend was something else—or lover, or friend. _Fuck_. "Because I think I love him."

 _Definitely boyfriend_ , James smirked to himself, and he was adamant his dad's eyes twinkled knowingly. It made him almost look wise and old—like the unofficial biographies made him seem.

"Couldn't think of anything better, well—I _could_ , but those involve Time-Turners and this, _this_ is a close second."

Teddy gripped James' hand, and he tried to diminish the burning on his cheeks.

"Now," Harry continued, "since Jamie—"

"— _James—"_

"—continues to live under my roof, as do you, you'll have to wait a week to take him out, Teddy." James' head cracked as shot a confused look at his dad, but his dad looked far too pleased with himself. "He'll be grounded, for completely ignoring me about the storm, going out _wandless_ , and making _me_ listen to the various ways my son could be dead—with my godson—by Ginny for the last three hours. A twenty-two-year-old groundee, _impressive_."

James let out a laugh, one that Teddy seemed to mirror. Moving closer, James let go of Teddy's hand and wrapped his arms around his dad, feeling the warmth of a hug and the pat of his hand on his back. He whispered, _thanks Dad,_ needing him to know that it was for everything, and not just for risking his own life—like he always did.

"Couldn't sit at home like a good _old man_ could you?" James said as the two stepped back from one another, a playful _Potter_ expression on his face. "Had to save the day, Christ Dad, anyone would think you like being the hero."

Lightly tapping him with his fist, Harry snorted. "Get your brooms. Unless you're _sharing_ one."

James winced in embarrassment.

"Don't dish out if you can't take it, _Jamie._ Bloody hero comments," Harry muttered.

This time neither James or Teddy corrected him, the two of them stealing a quick glance as their hands found one another's again. The wind had softened just the same as the storm, and James felt much lighter, his shoulders a lot less weighted, and as he stared at Teddy's hair changing to the usual blue, he pressed his lips softly against Teddy's.

"Um, Teddy?"

James kicked the ground as he bit down on his lip. He had said it once, he could repeat it. He knew it. He was a Gryffindor, the most courageous in his own house.

"I love you," he mumbled as Teddy's cheeks blushed, sparking a fire in James' chest.

"Love you too, Jamie."

Taking the broom from Teddy's hand, James found a current running up his fingers where their skin had met. Even with the prospect of facing his mum, hearing her ramble about him being too _dangerous_ and _carefree_ , James couldn't stop smiling, not sure when he had been this happy.

 _If ever_.

**Author's Note:**

> Find Me On Tumblr: [josiemoone](https://josiemoone.tumblr.com)


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